spit, mixed with dirt – muddy words flow
Summer came early to my part of the world, with unseasonably hot and dry weather. It’s shaping up to be a busy year for me but not in a bad way. I was given the opportunity to till up a large plot of land for a garden, which I have done and it’s all planted. A moose has quickly discovered it and eaten through all my broccoli and cabbage through several starts, along with most of my cauliflower, kohlrabi, and Brussels sprouts. I’ve since replanted and now working on building a (hopefully) better fence. I hope you enjoy some recent photos.
tara caribou | ©2022 all photos mine
Ray-ray always took extra care when preparing to meet Danny. She used to primp and preen, addressing each curl with precision and care. The dark dreads would stand straight out if she let them. But Danny was worth it. She would apply the hair cream to each strand meticulously. Afterwards, she slicked her full lips using a dark lipstick which she hoped would entice him just so.
She would check her teeth for stray particles before popping a stick of gum in her mouth, because she wanted her breath smelling minty or fruity or cinnamony, not like last night’s tacos. She would smudge dark stain on each eyelid and a thin layer of mascara, each lash carefully attended to.
Danny was worth it. Danny was the light in Ray-ray’s eyes. He didn’t care if her skin was the color of dark mocha. He didn’t care if she was poor. He didn’t care about the size of her house or if she had gas in her car. Danny said he liked her husky voice and the way her lips moved when she talked. They would talk for hours.
He would tell her about work and life at his house. About love past and the future he saw for himself, the future he would make happen. And Ray-ray hung on his every word. Believed every syllable and exclamation point. She danced on his infectious laughter and wrapped her arms around his engaging whispers.
Ray-ray loved Danny more than she ever loved anyone ever. He was the epitome of perfection in her dark brown eyes. Oh, she knew he wasn’t perfect, per se, no, but he was perfect for her. He made mistakes. He could sometimes be distant. But she overlooked the little flaws because they were unimportant to who he really was, inside. Every day, she ached to hold him in her arms. Every day, she ached to know he felt the same way about her.
He didn’t.
Danny cared deeply for Ray-ray, she knew. She was his friend. Probably his best friend. The one who understood him more than any other person on this spinning globe. Danny cared about her, yes, but he did not love her. She knew that he never would. Secretly, when she was alone in the dark, Ray-ray let herself cry quietly. She let herself dream about a day when Danny would speak to her, all emotion flowing: I love you Ray-ray. You’re the only woman I desire, the only one I need, the only one I want… Of course, she knew, in her heart, Danny would never say that. She knew it because she knew him.
Still, she wanted to look her best for him, so that he would see how much he mattered to her, without always saying it verbally. She showed him every way she knew how, that he was important and amazing and talented and intelligent and wonderful and she believed in him and and and…
It wasn’t an act, for her. It wasn’t fake. It was all honest truth. Her truth. Danny was… the best thing that had ever happened in her life. And she wanted to show him how much he meant to her every chance she got.
One day, Ray-ray sat and waited for Danny. She waited all morning. She waited all through lunch. She waited into evening. Danny never came. She worried because Danny had never done anything like this before. In fact, she never heard from him ever again. She still gets ready, at the appropriate time, their time, the time they had always spent together. But he never comes.
Ray-ray doesn’t cry only in the dark anymore.
tara caribou | ©2019-2022 revised
…when you get a beautiful little note from a friend in the mail unexpectedly.
This makes me smile. I love bunnies and this cute little rabbit made my weekend. 🥰 ~tara
on a mild and drizzly afternoon
curled up on the porch swing
my cheek resting upon my wrist
creak-creak, creak-creak
gently swaying
rain pounding down the roof
grey clouds pregnant to bursting
thunder boom, I smile
it’s the aching memories
the timber of your voice
caressing me and
how I long for your body
pressed against my skin and
your fingers threading my hair
as our lips hungrily
clash and join and mold together
our tongues thrusting, slithering
breaths in ragged gasps and sighs
my name, yours overlapping
two become one
nostrils flaring, the scent of us
flesh on ravenous flesh
sliding together just as easily as
the rain slips noiselessly
down the saturated roof
boom-boom-boom
creak-creak sigh
then your voice calls
through the screened window
I smile, new memories to be made
the dreaming rain can wait
tara caribou | ©2022 revised from my original poem “down the eaves”
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